


Insatiable

by Program



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Clothed Sex, M/M, Mind Games, Rimming, bottom!Dean, top!Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Program/pseuds/Program
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel and Dean deciding who tops their first time together. 'Nuff said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry. I was standing in my kitchen stirring my ramen when these mental images hit me and I sort of just slammed the cabinet shut, grabbed my bowl, and disappeared into my bedroom like a fucking cat from a vacuum cleaner. Have something born of my own thoughts for once.
> 
> Unbeta'd. all mistakes are my own.

Dean was quiet, so very quiet. Gabriel loved how focused he got when he was working on something; A gun, the Impala, a knife into something's gut? Name it. He watched often, out of reality, in between the folds of existence where Dean couldn't see him but he could sure as hell see Dean.

And _fuck_ the things that boy could do with his hands, how deftly they moved over the separate parts of a pistol, how smoothly he could pop the parts back into place without hesitating and get it right every time. Gabriel didn't know he could get hard from watching someone polish the barrel of a gun.

So it was with confidence and pride that he hatched his diabolical plot.

•

Dean swung the iron bar through a shrieking ghost with a scowl, quickly turning back to the grave to continue his slow focus on dousing the remains in gasoline while Sam covered them in salt. He glanced up again to check for the spirit just as it's cold fingers curled around his throat and pulled, easily forcing him off his feet and flinging him into a nearby gravestone. He was vaguely aware of Sam calling out his name as his vision swam, and a steady pulse of pain from his shoulder told him that he had landed on it and quite possibly dislocated it.

The next moment, the world was lit by flames and Dean grunted in his attempt to sit up, uninjured arm coming up to rub his throat. If he concentrated, he could still feel the tight grip of ice. "Sammy," he called out, but it was without need as the younger Winchester offered out his hand to help Dean up. They both turned to watch the fire with matching sighs of relief, hoping this wasn't one of those cases where burning the remains didn't actually help, but so far that didn't seemed the case. "Come on, I'm hungry,"

"You're always hungry, Dean."

"A man has gotta eat, Sammy," the elder Winchester snorted, turning to make for the Impala with Sam not far behind.

The ride home was fairly quiet, a pounding headache on Dean's part keeping the music low and the drive relatively slow and they made it to the motel in healthy time after pulling through a restaurant for something to eat when they got there. Sam was out of the car first, Dean shortly after and he took a moment to stretch his good arm, to-go box held firmly in his hand as he turned to glance in what seemed to be nonchalance around the parking lot.

He froze up when his eyes landed on a familiar head of golden hair and wolfish eyes. The next moment, he blinked, and Gabriel was gone.

He didn't even hear Sam approach and flinched when a large hand landed on his shoulder. "Dean, you okay?" when the man turned to look at his younger brother, worry was sitting in Sam's eyes and Dean remained quiet for a moment before clearing his throat. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just thinking," a flat out lie, and he knew Sam could tell, but the younger made no move on it and simply lead the way into the motel where they cleaned each other up, sewing up wounds and popping bones back into place.

Dean knew better than to take hallucinations and seeing things for granted in this business, but Gabriel couldn't really be there. He was dead, after all, as far as Dean knew.

Maybe he was just tired.

•

For the next month, Gabriel strategically timed his momentary appearances, waiting for moments when Dean was exhausted or distracted to show up in the near distance just where he knew the hunter would turn and see him. Every time, Dean's gaze lingered a little longer, tried to hold off blinking for just a few more seconds whenever he spotted the archangel.

Gabriel was certain, by the fifth day, Dean had come to expect his appearance, looking for him out of his peripherals and then all out when Sammy wasn't looking. It made the trickster smile, to think Dean missed him so much that he'd even take a perceived hallucination if that was the best he was getting.

Gabriel found such was not the case by day eleven, when he caught Dean glaring daggers at him from his place beside the Impala, waiting for Sam to get all his shit into the car so they could leave on their next hunt. It was then Gabriel realized Dean was quickly starting to hate his image, teasing and mocking him from afar. Well, that could easily be adjusted.

The messenger started doing more than just standing around. Occasionally he'd be be reading a magazine, decidedly Busty Asian Beauties. Usually he'd mold the image of someone Dean was talking to look like himself, catching Dean off guard and making him adorably jumpy. One time he stood idly at a stoplight, playing with a sucker on the tip of his tongue and pretending to look somewhere else, but he could feel the hunter staring and it took all of his will power not to smile.

By the end of the month, Gabriel got bold, and winged himself into the room they'd rented for their most recent hunt while Dean was sleeping, Sam out cold in the opposite bed. Predictably, when Gabe approached the older Winchester's bedside, a hand curled around his wrist and his vision swam while he was pulled off his feet and found himself pinned under the man with the barrel of a gun pressed rather snugly to his forehead. "Who the fuck are you and what do you want," the man hissed, his voice rough and low as green eyes glared down into gold.

Gabriel hadn't responded, simply reached up and pulled Dean down into a kiss before the human could think twice about it, quickly dominating with a stroke of his tongue and swallowing the shocked noise before breaking away, smiling dangerously, and vanishing.

Sam woke up a moment later to the image of Dean looking absolutely stunned and pointing a gun at thin air.

•

The next month proceeded much like the first, except Dean's thoughts were in turmoil and now he was utterly confused, occasionally still feeling the tingle on his lips. Dean hadn't expected the kiss at all, he figured it was some post-traumatic stress or some shit, but then Gabriel had to go on and kiss him, and that fucked everything up.

Hallucinations weren't supposed to kiss you, not that Dean was aware of.

His eyes starting chasing the brief glimpses he could get of the man, subconsciously seeking that head of golden hair that now pulled at his heart instead of pissed him off. Confusion was all that was really left, and by the end of month two, he was going mad and he knew Sam could tell.

"Dean, stop," the younger had started, trying to get in front of a twitchy Dean on their way into a bar, an arm suddenly barring the elder's way. "Sammy, we have to talk to the people here if we're going to-," he was cut off by a snort. "You know that's not what I mean," bitch-face edition 5.0 met Dean's own scowl.

"You've been twitchy and paranoid and distracted and it's starting to get annoying that I have to keep saving your stupid ass," Dean adopted a bitchface of his own at the accusation. "I'm fine, Sammy, drop it," he was met with being shoved right back out of the bar and into the alley nearby. "No, you're not, stop lying to me."

Dean groaned and leaned his weight to one side, head rolling on his shoulders before gaze dropped back onto Sam. "You've got to tell me what's up, Dean, because it's clearly not getting better," and the elder knew Sam was right, but he didn't like admitting to the presence of feelings. They were weaknesses, ways to get you and everyone you loved killed, and Dean couldn't have that. He shook his head, but Sam wasn't budging, so he heaved a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, closed posture, before he spoke.

"Okay so I've been...seeing things."

"What kind of things?"

"Dead things," Dean offered simply. "Dean," came the warning.

"I've been seeing Gabriel."

The statement sort of just fell out of his mouth before he could really stop it, and from the look of disbelief on Sammy's face, the younger man didn't believe it any more than Dean did. "I know, I know, sounds weird, but I've been seeing him everywhere, and sometimes he just gets a little close for comfort," he shrugged, hunching his shoulders defensively. He pointedly did not bring up the kiss, deciding to keep his dignity at the very least.

He'd been thinking that a cigarette butt on the ground between his feet was the most interesting thing in the world when Sam's breath hitched and Dean's gaze shot up to find the other staring off down the alley. Dean turned his eyes with a feeling of dread in his gut.

Golden eyes stared right on back.

Dean took off without a second thought, ignoring that triumphant smile that had appeared on Gabriel's face as the other turned and disappeared into a small side-alley, his movement taunting and coaxing. When Dean turned the corner to follow, well... He certainly wasn't in Kansas anymore.

No, it looked more a pimp's flat. There was suddenly a wall behind him where a dark, damp alley had previously been and the room was dark, decorated in artifacts and candles and in the very center, a large bed decorated with red satin sheets that screamed pornogaphy.

A tap on the shoulder had him whirling about on his heel, grabbing for the gun in the waistband of his jeans and he paused when he was met with an almost funny image of Gabriel himself leaning back against the wall, clothes looking artistically disheveled and a rose in his teeth. Dean didn't know whether to laugh or stare, so he opted for a subtle mixture of the two, laughing nervously high in his throat and running fingers through his own hair.

"This is a joke, right? I'm dreaming, gotta be dreaming."

The trickster reaching up casually to pull the rose from between his lips, twirling it slowly between his fingers. "No joke, Dean-o," a smirk tugging at one corner of his lips.

Dean, well he didn't know how to respond to that, hands stiffly at his sides and uncertain, green eyes darting around. "So what's with all this?" he gestured vaguely, trying to make the situation far less awkward than it was.

Gabriel tilted his head. "Oh, well 'all this' is a joke," he copied the gesture, pushing off the wall and stepping forward, challenge sparking in wolfish eyes. In the next moment, he reached up with his free hand, cupping the back of Dean's neck and pulling him down into a kiss, less rushed than the first one, but no less dominating in the way Gabriel made quick work of parting Dean's lips with his tongue to gain access.

The only difference was, this time, Dean responded.

•

Gabriel had assumed Dean would've been harder to crack, what with being the king of denial with his high grade, Winchester brand "I'm fine" and whatnot. So when a tongue clashed against his in an almost desperate fashion, the trickster's mind sang with triumph, but he could not celebrate. Not yet, he had to make sure the other man was so desperate for it that he wouldn't have second thoughts.

He waited until Dean was absolutely breathless before pulling back, smiling as the hunter chased after the kiss before raising his hand, an ominous image that reflected the protest in Dean's eyes before he snapped his fingers and sent the man right back to the alley way, grinning at the snarl of frustration he picked up on just before winging away once more, leaving the Winchester's to their inevitable thoughts.

•

Dean spent the next month chasing Gabriel's image, and Sam knew why now. The younger brother quit trying to stop Dean after the first few times, and instead resigned to watching the other's turned back whenever he assumed the elder had spotted the elusive trickster. Dean's madness was starting to effect him too.

Sam himself had been the first to spot Gabe a couple of times, too, and the younger couldn't help but consider whether to shoot the man or just ignore him. From the smile on the messenger's face, he figured Gabriel already knew the answer to that one. Dean wasn't getting tired of the games, and it was starting to effect his focus in a way that was much different than before. It was like he was anxious, almost needy. He drank a lot more, as if we was trying to break his own record, and sounded almost wounded whenever he could catch the tiniest glimpse. Whatever game the archangel was playing was starting to effect their ability to survive.

•

It had been a night when Sam had actually sent Dean home alone when he was doing more harm than good on their hunt, Dean had just pulled up to the motel when he caught the movement in the corner of his eye and got out of the vehicle immediately, refusing to let the angel get away this time. He felt some kind of triumph when his fingers got a grip on Gabriel's arm and he ignored the sound that came out of the shorter man as he all but dragged him into the room the Winchester's had paid for, slamming the door shut before promptly throwing Gabe up against it.

He didn't let the angel get a smart-mouthed quip out, instead abusing him opening his mouth for Dean's own purposes. Said purposes including shoving his lips up against Gabriel's and claiming instant dominance in a wholly desperate slide of tongue that was matched without a hitch.

He immediately reciprocated and fought back, palms flat on Dean's chest to push him backwards towards the bed, turning the tables by attempting to pin the hunter's tongue with his own in challenge. Dean met it flawlessly by bracing himself, halting the progress and shoving Gabriel up against the wall, fingers curling into the angel's thighs and lifting him, using only his body pressed up against the smaller man to keep him in place.

It was Gabriel who broke the kiss, breathless and eyes alight in the challenge and no fucking way was he going to give up so easily. Hands slid slowly up Dean's neck, lips just a hair's width apart as one hand lifted off the skin, shaping into preparation to snap and Dean had just a moment to give a protesting glare before he was on his back on the bed, Gabriel on top of him and pinning him down with a wide, snarky little grin on his face. Dean huffed. "Cheater!" he hissed, looking disgruntled at the snort from the angel. "There aren't any rules," came the smart-mouthed reply. Dean took it to heart by jerking forward to reclaim Gabe's lips and use it as a distraction to roll them over, straddling the messenger's hips with a grin of his own.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and was suddenly gone, taking place behind Dean and twisting his arm behind his back, using the leverage to bend the man over and grind his dick, hard beneath the straining denim of his jeans, against the curve of Dean's ass, earning an indignant snarl as the hunter's hips bucked in protest.

"Really, Dean," Gabe snorted. "Trickster, remember?"

He ground his hips forward again, applying a little enhanced angel strength to keep the human in place.

"Dick," came the snappy reply. Gabriel only smiled.

He hooked the fingers of his free hand in the hem of the hunter's jeans, tugging them over and off Dean's ass and laying a firm, open palmed slap to the bared flesh, causing the man beneath him to yelp. He fit his hand over the already reddening flesh, scooting back and getting comfortable before flicking his tongue out to taste puckered flesh, which earned an even less dignified whimper.

Gabriel decided then that he didn't have it in him to drag this out, that could wait until later. Right now, he was focused on claiming the hunter for himself. Leaning back in, he traced the rim with his tongue, taking in each little sound Dean made and waiting for the muscle to relax before inevitably thrusting his tongue passed the ring of flesh and Dean just made this absolutely delicious noise that went straight to Gabriel's dick and he groaned thickly. Nope, not going to last at all.

He sealed his lips to the hole, licking and stroking in to relax the tight ring of muscle for stretching, curling his tongue and stroking until he found what he was looking for and Dean cried out, his free hand grabbing tightly at the sheets of the bed and fisting in the fabric, whining when Gabriel pulled away.

"Gabriel," it was more of a whine than an actual statement, a protesting noise that drove the archangel wild. He fished around in his jacket pocket for a small bottle of lube before shrugging off the article of clothing and leaving only the button up underneath. He released Dean's arm, which immediately joined it's companion to fist in the sheets, and the man whined and writhed, demanding friction.

Gabriel lubed up his fingers before pouring a bit directly onto Dean's entrance, a sharp intake of breath ignored as he used one hand to hold the man steady and the other to slowly work in a finger, reveling in the tightness around the single digit and waiting for the muscle to relax before working in a second finger. He prepared Dean quickly but with thorough attention until the hunter was a panting mess, legs trembling and cock leaking where it was still trapped in his underwear which had only had been pulled down as much as necessary.

Once Dean was as loose as he was getting, Gabriel pulled his fingers out, snorting at the hollow snarl. He worked quickly and clumsily at the fastenings of his own jeans, working to release his erection and practically sobbing with relief once he managed it. He slicked himself up smoothly with a mixture of lube and his own pre-come, careful not to get too into it for fear of ending this all before even getting started. So without any further delay, he lined himself up with one hand, held Dean's hips in place with the other and slowly pushed in.

The noise Dean made when Gabriel was hilted inside of him was just so _perfect_.

Gabriel waited, restraining himself almost painfully as he let the larger body beneath him adjust, thumb stroking gently at the skin on Dean's hip, soothing and calming him until he relaxed again, and still Gabriel waited for just a moment longer, making damn sure that it would be good enough that Dean would be dragging Gabriel back for more later.

After a moment, Dean shifted, groaning, then growling. "Fucking _move_ ," he hissed, turning his head so to watch the trickster from his peripherals and that was all the urging Gabe needed to pull out agonizingly slow, all the way out until the head caught on his rim before thrusting back in with a single, smooth stroke and the human moaned his bliss nakedly as Gabriel repeated the action, then again and again and again until he managed to sort some kind of rhythm out to match the man's shoving back into the angel's thrusts in his search for more friction, deeper strokes.

Gabriel, being the little shit he is, adjusted the angle of his hips before thrusting back in and grinned triumphantly at the keening whine that signified his hitting right on target and proceeded to try and hit it with every thrust after while Dean shamelessly begged for more; _harder, faster_ mixed in with a litany of _yes_ and _fuck_ until he was basically screaming into the sheets, with the increase of pace on Gabriel's part.

He could feel the heat and tension quickly pooling at the base of his spine and in his gut and he leaned forward, fitting his clothed chest against Dean's back, pulling the cloth off his shoulder with a hand and sinking his teeth into the flesh while the pattern of his thrusts stuttered and became messy and graceless.

Dean came first, an open mouthed, muted cry pressed into the sheets as he pulled Gabriel over the edge with him, muscles clamping down and milking the archangel for all he was worth, ripping a blissed-out cry from him as he thrust through his orgasm, fingers digging into flesh. He slowed, then at last stilled inside of the larger man and held there, catching his breath against Dean's spine and, finally, pulling out with a groan. Dean was the first to collapse, rolling onto his side and staring disapprovingly down his body at where his cock had still been trapped, meaning his boxers were going to become pretty uncomfortable relatively quick.

Gabriel laid on his back beside the other, a lazy wave of his hand and they were both unclothed in the next instant. He pulled the blanket up over the both of them and curled happily up against Dean's back despite some garbled protest about not cuddling or some shit. Gabriel didn't care, because Dean was playing little spoon whether he liked it or not.

•

Sam walked in later to an image of Gabriel and Dean spooning and turned right the fuck back around and walked back out.

Nope.


End file.
